Bitter Sweet
by Moonlit Dreaming
Summary: Nami prides herself on being perceptive. She thinks she knows it all. But Forget-Me-Not Valley, and its residents are full of shocks. Soon she understands that it's not the open book she expected. HM:DS, Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Harvest Moon **does not** belong to me.

**Note: **Huzzah. A post – at last! It's such a relief to finally upload this story. Due to its content, you'll understand why I intended to post this on February 14th earlier this year. As we've now reached August it should also be obvious that I am a dreadful procrastinator. XD Well, it was certainly fun (in parts!) to write. Hope everyone enjoys it!

Bitter Sweet

Beads of rain chased each other down the long, glass pane. Water was bouncing frantically off the balcony beyond, seeping between the wooden boards and cascading over the sides. Nami observed the sight in silence, except for the steady drumbeat of a Forget-Me-Not Valley rain shower. It seemed so powerful - almost angry.

If she opened the door and stepped out into it, would she be washed away?

Don't think she wouldn't try. She'd be out there in an instant, if it wasn't for one thing. Just like an old and lazy cat, Nami abhorred getting wet. Mainly, she honestly couldn't be _bothered_ with drying off her clothes afterwards.

_Apathetic: _summed her up nicely, really.

"Hey, Nami!"

The redhead cringed visibly and turned, shuddering, to face the intruder. "Don't knock, will you? I don't mind at all..."

"That's alright then." Rock flopped onto the spare bed, across from Nami's. If she hadn't missed a payment last week, she'd order him out of her room without even a flicker of conscience. As it stood, she was here on his mother's goodwill alone and had probably lost the right to demand anything of _anyone _within these four walls. Every inch of him - from his too bright, blond hair, his clunky, 'gold' peace medallion down to his flashy running trainers that had never been used for their true purpose - she despised.

Too harsh? Well, maybe.

But Nami had meandered through life, happily enough, by sticking to the outer edges. She would rather take a step back, where others might wade in. Her top priority in life was keeping a safe distance. That way, you avoided the messy things, the unnecessary things, the painful complications. Nami _respected _that others wanted a different life, but apparently it didn't always go both ways. _Not _as far as Rock was concerned. She might even _like _him - a little bit - if he could just _stay out of her personal space for five damn minutes!_

The door swung closed behind Rock, wafting a faint but enticing aroma into the room. Nami's nose twitched. Slowly, a smell so homely and inviting rose through the floorboards. Nami temporarily forgot herself.

Thinking with her stomach, she sniffed the air. "What's that?" she demanded.

Rock, as was usual for him, looked perplexed. "What's what?"

The Inner Inn had been filled with interesting smells since she had first arrived. And not the bad kind of 'interesting', that had plagued other places she'd stayed at; the very good kind. She soaked up the scents of Ruby's rich cooking, she inhaled the pure comfort that came from freshly laundered bed sheets... actually, for a traveller, Nami had a well hidden passion for home comforts.

"That _smell,_ Rock," she clarified, narrowly avoiding seizing him by the shoulders. "That bewitching, beautiful, ensnaring... " She shook her head hard. "What's your mother cooking today?"

"Oh. Oh, _that!_ That's top secret."

So he _could _be even more infuriating than she originally thought possible.

As if to emphasise this fact, Rock grinned widely up at Nami, showing a perfect line of annoyingly straight teeth. Fuming, she strode to the door and onto the landing. And predictably, Rock wasted no time in racing after her. "I'll just go and see for myself, shall I?" she asked tauntingly, before skipping down the stairs to the foyer.

"Oi!" Rock grabbed Nami by her thin elbow, swinging her around to face him. "You don't think I'm going let _you_ ruin Forget-Me-Not's best kept secret?"

Which prompted from Nami a feeling similar to disappointment and the thought_, you don't know me at all. _"And that's supposed to make me feel _less _curious, is it?" she mocked, her blue eyes dancing like they hadn't in the longest time.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"That's all right. I don't like cats," Nami replied smoothly.

Rock shrugged in what might have been exasperation, before continuing nonetheless, "And you'd only laugh if you found out, anyway."

A voice from the kitchen made them both leap around: "She's got as much right to know as any woman in this town, Rock."

Rock scowled in the direction of his mother, but didn't so much as dare answer back. _"Intriguing..."_ smirked Nami, brushing swiftly past him.

The kitchen was far messier than she had ever seen it. Flour coated every surface, and utensils lay around in various states of abandonment... Nami was shocked at Ruby, who was usually utterly organised in every respect.

"What's going on?" She frowned, wrong-footed and deeply suspicious.

Rock's mother, Ruby, was a short, plump woman with a round face and seemingly permanent smile; she was nothing like her only son, both in terms of looks and personality. He trailed into the kitchen behind Nami and perched himself sulkily amidst the only available inches of kitchen counter. Nami turned away from him. Now that she had been in the kitchen a little while, her brain was finally starting to function at an efficient pace again. That smell, unexpected and delightful, was the mingled combination of baking, or freshly baked, cookies and chocolate cake. Pressing her fist into her abdomen, Nami tried to suppress the rumbling gurgle that emanated embarrassingly from her. She heard Rock snort with laughter behind her back. _"Why_ are you baking all this, Ruby?" Nami asked again, staring at the huge bags of flour stacked on the kitchen table; _she_ was still their only guest – why was Ruby going so obviously over the top?

And was it simply Nami's over-active imagination or was there a knowing, even sly twinkle in Ruby's brown eyes when she turned them on her? "What's today's date, Nami, dear?"

"Oh..." There was a sickeningly cute calendar, featuring kittens, that was hung lop-sided on the wall. "It's the Winter the 14th," Nami read. For mid-winter, Forget-Me-Not Valley was unseasonably warm. What should have been snow showers, fell instead as great sheets of driving, icy rain. The date meant nothing to Nami, yet both Ruby and Rock were staring her almost encouragingly as if waiting for a look of comprehension to cross her face. Well, they were going to be waiting a damn long while, in that case...

"I don't get it," Nami said flatly.

"It's the Winter Thanksgiving Festival!" Rock burst out. "You know, where girls give guys chocolate? Guys that they, you know... _like_." For once, he seemed oddly subdued.

At last, the puzzle pieces slotting into place before her eyes, Nami was beginning to understand. Ruby began piling a tray of what looked like – and, yes, smelled very much like – she almost _drooled_ – chocolate chip cookies onto a plate. And finally Nami grinned, because finally she'd realised what was going and it was cunning and inventive and resourceful and just damn _perfect _all at once_._

"Ruby, it's you... you bake all this... not the women... and you sell them on?" She asked the last part almost shrewdly, wondering if this was simply an act of charity for those challenged by matters culinary or more of a business opportunity.

"Oh, of course they pay, dear," Ruby assured her. "But, you know, it's only a yearly thing. We don't make anything from it really..."

"You don't do this when it's the men's turn?" said Nami, remembering vaguely that in the spring it was up to them to dispense gifts.

"Oh no," Ruby chuckled, "no Valentine's Day conspiracy _there."_

The two women laughed, but Nami was certain she heard something petulant along the lines of 'stupid' and 'unfair.' Ruby, too, was clearly possessed of sharp ears, chiding in a motherly way, "Now Rock." Pausing half-way through generously icing a fat, glistening chocolate cake, she turned to Nami. "He can moan, but this little idea began with him!"

"What?" Nami was agog.

"_Mom!"_

"Yes," Ruby continued mildly, "that's what makes it ironic that only the women come here for help now. My Rocky needed some assistance – never much of a cook, he wasn't, and you can't give a girl a boiled egg or soggy toast as a present, can you?"

Nami felt as though she might burst. "Who? Who was it _for?"_

"_Mom!"_ Desperation was audible in his tone by now. "_Please__,_ mom, we don't need to discuss this."

"Oh, but Nami dear... you don't already know?" Eyes wide like saucers, Ruby smiled both knowingly yet affectionately at her son. "It was that sweet, young girl," she went on, in ignorance of his horror. "The one who lives in the huge, old villa above the village. Now what's her name - ?"

"Lumina?" Nami interrupted, hushed. Her incredulous answer was aimed at Rock, not Ruby. Mortified, he wouldn't even look at her, much less meet her open stare.

"_Ages_ ago," he muttered, angrily, leaping down from the counter. In his frustration, Rock upset a pile of napkins, which fluttered to the kitchen floor. "I was young, okay?" he mumbled, already fading from earshot as he whirled out of the room. Nami felt fixed to the spot, startled into silence; she had not expected that reaction – that _over_reaction. This was Rock. Happy-go-lucky, the height of carefree and joviality, _Rock, _for Goddess sake! What was his problem? She started to retrieve the napkins.

"Ruby?"

"Yes, my dear?" Ruby continued to ice her cake, as though oblivious to what had just unfolded.

"What, er... happened?" When Nami straightened up, subdued, her arms were full of crumpled napkins. "With Lumina?"

"Oh, well, nothing," she replied, as though this were obvious. This fact, however, didn't seem to bother Ruby in the slightest. "Lumina was one of those who came to us that winter. She wanted a plate of cookies." Noticing the perplexed expression on Nami's face, she shook her head sadly, "They weren't for my Rock, I'm afraid."

Suddenly, Rock's horrible response seemed justified. It was as though a pile of rocks had settled heavily in Nami's stomach; she found, oddly, that she didn't want to hear any more... "Who then?" she asked, almost miserably.

"I couldn't say."

But, really, Ruby didn't need to. Wandering around tiny Forget-Me-Not Valley as a spectator, like Nami regularly did, allowed a person to pick up on certain things. All you had to do was _look._ Of course, it was even easier when young, sometimes naive Lumina – for all her supposed upper-class aloofness - scampered around wearing her heart so boldly on display. Nami had seen her longing looks on the highstreet, the beach, in the Blue Bar. Her comments towards Jack, the ex-city boy turned farmer, were supposed to be throw-away ones, her true feelings betrayed when Jack replied that he didn't need any help today, thanks. They said you couldn't kid a kidder and Nami thought that was very apt; she felt she could understand more than she wanted to about some people.

Later, she retired to sit half-way up the darkened stairway. It was Ruby's opinion that her presence in the kitchen might be viewed as threatening by the other women. Nami snorted, thinking that they valued their pride rather highly for women who couldn't seem to manage their own cookers. Ruby just smiled and said that she was missing the point entirely. It was all about solidarity... apparently. When Nami, having slouched off, took a seat on the steps, she landed unexpectedly on somebody's foot.

"Oof - "

"_Oh._ Rock?"

"Yeah! Gerroff."

"Sorry, sorry..." Nami settled silently beside him in the semi-gloom. The memory of their last meeting hung awkwardly in the air between them. When Nami considered it, Lumina was a pretty little thing. She had a honey-coloured bob and a pale, pointed, pixie face; it was totally understandable that Rock had fallen for her. Feminine, petite, conventional – _that _was Lumina. Totally understandable, clearly.

"This is easily the best position to be in, you know," Rock piped up, causing instant relief to wash over Nami. It was as if morose-Rock had never existed; only a mere blip. He grinned wildly. "From here you can watch all the comings and goings. The best bit is when they look up and spot you, 'cause they don't know _what _you know. Maybe you're just innocently sitting in the stairwell, maybe you're spying."

"And what _are_ we doing, if I may ask?"

Rock sent her a mock-injured look. "Minding our own business. Obviously."

Nami let out an uncharacteristic giggle, unable to hold it in. Who knew Rock could be so wonderfully devious?

They had to wait a little while for the amusement to begin, but begin it did, and it didn't disappoint. The first person to enter the Inner Inn was a tall, young woman with fly-away, sandy hair and rectangular glasses that looked in danger of slipping down her nose. Nami recognised her as Flora, a scatty archaeologist who she occasionally bumped into in the Blue Bar. Flora darted into the kitchen so speedily that she didn't notice them sat just a few metres away. She backed into the foyer moments later holding a plate draped in a blue checked cloth. "Thanks, Ruby," they heard her whisper, "Daryl's going to – " Flora faltered; she had spotted Nami and Rock staring open mouthed at her. She stuttered into total, mortified silence, turned, tripping over her own feet, and fled.

"Daryl?" Nami gasped, twisting around to face Rock.

"The mad scientist guy?"

"Yeah! Weird... I never would have thought..."

Rock looked unusually pensive. "Well, she only had cookies by the look of it. I mean, that's not serious, is it? That's a crush. That's just the beginning. We're not talking marriage; maybe nothing will come of it."

"What do you mean?" Nami asked.

"Do you know _any_thing?" he said, irritating her immensely. Rock later said that the Winter Thanksgiving Festival should be viewed as a sliding scale of romance. Cookies were no big-deal, really. Chocolate cookies meant things were hotting up. And chocolate cake – well, then you were talking _engagement._

Nami said romance was dead.

"Cynic," Rock chuckled. "Ooh – " He lowered his voice dramatically. " – Muffy's just picked up a cake! Griffin'll be pleased."

It was great fun – until Lumina entered. Nami tensed. She emerged a moment later, a bag in her arms; it was impossible to gauge what it held, though. "For Jack," Rock muttered.

"Your mum didn't tell me," Nami mouthed, "I just kind of guessed. I'm sorry – "

But Rock just looked mildly surprised. "It's alright. Really."

"What a waste, though," Nami hissed, assuming that it probably wasn't alright. "Jack's blatantly in love with Celia from the farm!"

"Huh?" Rock barely attempted to conceal his stunned reaction. "You really think so?"

The second Lumina was gone, Nami erupted with laughter. "'Course he is! You've not noticed? People around here need to open their eyes, honestly."

"Hmm. Okay."

Dusk had long since descended, when Ruby emerged from her kitchen at last. She told them solemnly that one batch of cookies remained uncollected. Once again, Nami immediately asked "By who?" and was met with the same rebuttal: Ruby couldn't say.

* * *

It was the second series of knocks on her door that Nami could not seem to ignore. At first she'd simply assumed it was her imagination. Or the rain beating down on the roof, but even that seemed to have stopped. She sat up straight in bed, blinking in the slivery moonlight. Whilst pulling a jumper over her nightgown, she was almost certain of hearing footsteps fading along the hall. "Rock?" she murmured into dead silence. Whoever it was, they had gone.

What would Rock – or indeed anyone – be doing outside her room at midnight?

Nami shuffled into her slippers and padded across the creaky floorboards. As she suspected, the landing beyond was deserted. Except –

At her feet sat something that had not, without a single doubt in mind, been there when she went to bed a few hours earlier. It was a small, white box, tied with a lilac ribbon. Nami noticed that an envelope had been attached. Perplexed, she gently lifted the parcel. _Strange..._ it smelled like... baking. Like chocolate chip cookies. Actually, scratch that, it smelled _divine.__.._

Then it hit her, a full-force, smack-your-forehead realisation. _Rock! _Some poor woman, too shy to meet him face to face, had snuck in here and accidently left her gift at the wrong door. It made perfect sense. Well, sort of. There was just one _minor_ issue with that idea.

The note read: _Nami._

Her mind reeled. She slit open the envelope with shaking fingers, wondering. Her eyes raced across the page once, but she found it wasn't enough. She had to read it again, and a third and fourth time before it even began to make sense. Nami found herself biting down on her bottom lip to stifle what would have been shocked, borderline delirious laughter. It was that amazing.

_To Nami-_

_I hope you appreciate this! Yeah, I know it's a bit mad, a bit crazy, but that's love, isn't it? You'll understand, I'm sure. You've probably noticed that this is the Winter Thanksgiving Festival. And that I'm NOT a woman. Both of those things are true, yes, but then I remembered how unconventional YOU are. I hope you understand me. With you I get the feeling I should do things backwards and try to stand out. That's the only way to get the attention of girl like you, Ice Maiden. So I'm sending you these now, a season too early. I hope, at last, I've thawed you._

_-Love, Jack _

Gobsmacked... shell-shocked... staggered... None of those words did justice to what Nami felt - now having read the note at least ten times. "Wait_... Ice Maiden?"_ she muttered. What did that even _mean? _She was tempted to toss the letter away without a second thought, but instead she tucked it into a drawer in her bedside cabinet, along with the cookies. It felt wrong to eat them, so she resisted, yet it felt simultaneously too disrespectful – wasteful, too – to throw them in the trash.

Nami sat on the edge of her bed, bathed in the hazy lamplight, twirling the lilac ribbon between her fingers. So Jack Taylor loved her. _Her._ Well perhaps not love, exactly. Infatuation, though, sounded exactly right. She really would never have known, if he hadn't told her. No wonder he called her an Ice Maiden. Nami could barely recall a conversation that had passed between them. Nothing more profound than, "Nice day," or "Morning," anyway. There was something deeply wrong with the world, she decided, tugging a hand through her cropped red hair. It was madder and more mixed-up than she'd ever realised, a bit like a jig-saw that had been put together incorrectly. Rock loved Lumina. Lumina loved Jack. Jack inexplicably loved _her._ And Flora fancied Daryl! Everyone wanted who they couldn't have. Except, possibly, in the latter case.

Rock knew, she thought suddenly. That was probably why he'd been so surprised when she suggested that Jack was longing for Celia. How had he seen something she just couldn't? Weren't they looking at the same thing? That phrase about there being none so blind as those that don't want to see was one Nami wholeheartedly believed in. Yet maybe she'd fallen into just that trap. She rubbed her eyes. She wished Rock had sent that dumb note. They could laugh about it. Of course, she'd have to insist that he never _ever _called her anything as ridiculous as Ice Maiden. Ergh. No. Suddenly, Nami didn't feel sure of very much. The only thing she knew for certain was that she didn't reciprocate the feelings of loopy Jack Taylor. How would she tell him?

She told herself to forget it for now. There was something more pressing requiring her attention. Nami wandered back across her room, her feet firmer than her mind; her steps felt unnaturally purposeful. But having got so many things wrong today, surely she'd earned a little luck? Maybe, this once, she'd got something right – just this one thing.

The stairs were pitch black now. Crossing the foyer, Nami noticed that the rain had transformed into snow, drifting sleepily past the window pane. So at least something was right with the world. She walked, smiling, into the kitchen.

You see, something had occurred to Nami when she was in her room. Hadn't Ruby said that there was one plate of cookies left behind? And hadn't they believed her without stopping to think about what that _meant? _There _wasn't_ another woman, and there couldn't be. A stream of women had passed through the Inner Inn – Flora, Celia, Muffy and Lumina. It couldn't be Chris; married women never participated. So who was this supposed no-show?

Answer: _she didn't exist; she never had. _

The cookies were on the kitchen table, waiting. Nami reached over, scooping up a scrap paper left atop them. No, it didn't say, _"Reserved for Chris"_ or even, _"Property of Nina."_ Simply, in Ruby's hurried scrawl – _"Just in case." _As she read it, Nami's stomach back flipped and then was gone.

Just in case. A chance. An opportunity. Ruby had left the sentence hanging; it was up to them to finish it.

Taking the plate, Nami scurried back across the chilly hall and up the stairs. Rock would still be up, she knew; this was practically early for him. They could... talk for while, have a chat and joke, and maybe she'd be convinced to divulge the dreaded Jack Situation. They could share a cookie or two.

Nami knocked on the door across the landing before she could talk herself out of it. She mused for a wild moment over whether this was it – the thawing of Ice Maiden, if Jack Taylor had somehow achieved his goal in the most ironic sense. Nah. She was only a human girl. Mistakes, flaws and all. Today had taught her that if nothing else. Nami was a human girl and it seemed that romance, maybe, wasn't quite dead. Some day!

Time slowed to a crawl before Rock's door eventually swung open.


End file.
